Interested Bystanders
by Simon920
Summary: Robin Dick Grayson is shot by the Joker--people react. Darn it.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

Note: Remember that old comic where Robin (Dick Grayson) is shot by the Joker and causes Batman to flip out and fire the lad? That's what this is based on.

**Interested Bystanders**

"This is indefensible! No matter what his age is now—and I doubt that he's a legal adult—to allow him, as well as the other young 'side-kicks', to be continuously placed in situations where they're in mortal danger—and to have it sanctioned by our Police Commissioner, no less, it's incredible and I, for one, intend to get to the bottom of this thing being not only permitted but actively endorsed, encouraged and applauded!"

Senator Helmsley concluded his press conference in time for it to make the evening news, as planned. The incident he was ranting against was everywhere, both that night and over and over again on every channel, pictures from the tape printed and reprinted in every paper and magazine and papered across the Internet. They were impossible to miss, full color, costumes and blood displayed like a bad action film, complete with a dark and stormy city night as the background.

Batman and Robin were fighting the Joker again. The three of them on a city roof top, Joker's helicopter flying close in to rescue the madman, a news station eye in the sky helicopter filming the scene. The cameraman caught Joker drawing a large hand-held gun, aim, fire, then Robin crumbling as his shoulder exploded in a shower of blood and gore—the sound of the gunshot audible over the roar of the chopters blades and engines. The horror was compounded as the criminal managed an escape, Batman concerned with his partner who'd been thrown backwards by the impact, his feet slipping on the edge of the wet roof and the sight of the boy falling off the building broadcast live to who knew how many millions of homes.

Everyone watching the newscast or tuning in to You Tube caught Batman diving after Robin, barely catching him, preventing his fall from the ledge he'd landed on, forty-seven stories above the street then both of them disappearing on the end of a jump line, as if in thin air.

There were no statements, no one knew if Robin was dead or alive. No one fitting anything close to his description was admitted to any hospital or clinic with a hundred mile radius. There was no information, no announcement and both the public and the media were screaming for information and answers.

The firestorm wasn't going away, it was building and would come to a head no matter what happened now.

In Wayne Manor a firestorm of another type was burning, unmindful of the publicity nightmare about to land on the entire Hero Community.

"I've made my decision and you'll accept it."

"The hell I will—you can't do this; I AM Robin and had been for almost ten years. You can't..."

"That's enough, the decision is final and you'll..."

"Screw you—you're upset _now_? I've been knifed, shot, poisoned, beaten, tortured for nine years and _now _you decide that this is too dangerous and you can't be responsible? Where was all this semi-parental concern when I was ten years old? I'm almost eighteen, I'm two months away from being a legal adult and I can do whatever I want."

"'Live in my house, live by my rules."

"Fine."

"Excuse me?"

"I'll leave, I'll stay at the Tower."

"You're not going anywhere until that shoulder heals, young man. Bruce, you're not helping the situation. I suggest that you remove yourself until everyone has had a chance to calm down, get some rest and see how things appear in the morning." Reluctantly and with none too good grace, Bruce spent the next few hours down in the cave while Dick, thanks to pain meds, spent them sleeping.

The next morning things had, indeed, settled, though not for the better. When Alfred brought up his breakfast tray he found that Dick Grayson, Robin, left during the night, leaving a note that, if necessary, he could be contacted at Titan's Tower. But only if it were absolutely necessary.

Sad, though not all that surprised, he carried the tray to the family dining room and placed the filled plates in front of the Master, waiting with his nose buried in the Wall Street Journal. He met the odd service with a raised eyebrow. "Is Dick better?"

"I'm afraid that I wouldn't know, I found this on his pillow."

'_I'm at the Tower and will stop in to see Dr. Leslie if I need anything for my shoulder. I have some ideas about how to resolve the argument from last night and will be in touch when I have everything in place and worked out._

_D'_

Bruce nodded as though he'd expected last night's threat would be carried out.

"You're not going after him?"

"Not yet, no. He says it himself." He gestured to the note on the table, "He has some things to work out; he'll come around soon enough and be back."

"I wish I had your confidence about that, sir." His face was as schooled to neutrality as ever when Bruce clicked on the TV, the morning news shows delivering the overnight headlines.

_'In a move which surprised no one after the recent graphic footage of Robin's shooting and obviously serious injury while attempting to apprehend the Joker, Senator Helmsley has introduced a bill which would forbid any costumes heroes becoming active until they are of legal age, in this case until they're at least twenty-one years old. This would effectively put the Teen Titans out of business and stop the activities of every side-kick now working in law enforcement. The Senator spoke with us earlier today:_

_'It's irresponsible, it's nuts to let these kids run wild and roughshod over the bounds of any kind of commonsense—these are kids—kids! They get hurt—we have plenty of proof of that; do we even know if Robin is still alive? This has to stop—it simply has to!'_

The reaction was swift, politicians, religious leaders, educators and columnists took sides in time for the next major newscasts. CNN and MSNBC ran the story to the exclusion of almost everything else. Kids in playgrounds voiced their opinions, insisting that the Titans could do anything—_anything!_—and were awesome. The White House announced that an investigation into the young heroes activities for the CIA and FBI would be closely looked at and the propriety of the whole mess was debated in both Houses of Congress as well as in foreign Parliaments.

The Hero Community, and Batman and Robin in particular, has no comment.

At least not yet.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

"_Despite increasing calls and requests, there's still no official reaction or statement from Batman, the Titans or the Justice League regarding Robin's condition after that very public shooting incident four days ago. It's unknown at this time the extent of his injuries or if he's even alive after being shot and then suffering a serious fall. (Talking head cuts to footage under voice over.) Politicians, religious leaders and several parenting groups have all expressed deep concern about the welfare of the minors working with our hero community and there are threats of lawsuits to protect the young people as well as suggestions that minors should be banned from pursuing this career until they're of legal age. Stay tuned to this station..."_

Alfred answered the light and unexpected knock at the front door, privately thinking whoever it was could have rung the bell or, perhaps, made an appointment.

"Good morning, Alfred. I apologize for not having called first but is Bruce available?"

"Master Kent, of course, please, do come in, might I offer you something? Coffee? Tea?"

"Thank you, I'm fine but, more to the point, is Dick all right?"

"...Perhaps it might be better if you permitted Master Bruce to address that, if you'd be kind enough to follow me?"

Down in the cave Clark dropped his facade of patience, standing over Bruce as he pretended to ignore his visitor.

"How bad was his injury?" The voice was strong but restrained, much like the man himself.

"He should make a full recovery." It was said a bit too dismissively.

"You don't mind if I speak with him and see for myself?"

"Do whatever you want." That was a bit abrupt, even for Batman.

Clark didn't rise to the bait. "You do realize that you've handled this poorly, the media is calling for your blood and it's spilling over to everyone in the business who ever worked with a side-kick. Congress is calling for hearings to begin in two weeks."

"I got the summons."

"Have you given any thought as to what you might say?"

"I'm sure I'll think of something." His eyes still on his monitor screen, Bruce didn't deign to glance at Superman, a dangerous choice as he undoubtedly knew.

"Where is he?" Clark was looking at the cave ceiling, looking through it to the manor above and not finding Dick.

"Titan's Tower, I believe."

Exasperated but declining to engage in a pointless conversation, Clark simply left. Changing as he moved he arrived at the Tower within seconds, let himself in and found Dick propped up on pillows, resting on a couch in front of a large screen TV. His arm was in a sling, bandages visible above the neck of his tee-shirt and filling out both the left shoulder and sleeve. He knelt beside the boy waking him with an apology.

"Where are your friends?"

Dick looked blearily around, disoriented. "Um...'went out, I think."

Clark gently put his hand on his forehead, he was feverish, his color bad and (looking through the clothing and bandages) saw that the bullet wound was red and infected. "Has anyone seen this besides Alfred?"

"I'mokay." His words were slurring a little.

"Do you mind if I see what I can do?"

"Ssuuure." His eyes drifted closed and he was out again.

Checking the prescription pill bottle on the end table, Clark made a quick calculation; twenty four 500mg pills of penicillin, issued five days ago with instructions to take two a day. There should be fourteen pills left, there were twenty-two. Dick hadn't been taking the antibiotic, the wound was infected and the infection was spreading quickly. There were three small chips from the bone of his shoulder blade that were still imbedded in his shoulder and probably extremely painful. Whether they hadn't shown up on the x-rays or were simply missed, they needed to be addressed. Gently lifting the unconscious boy still wrapped in a blanket, he flew him to Metropolis General, depositing him in the high security and secret Hero's Suite, reserved exclusively for injured JLA, JS, Titan members and whichever meta or super human might be in need.

This medical suite, secret and as secure as the staff could make it, would allow Robin to heal, make sure he received any meds he needed and see that he wasn't disturbed. It was probably where he should have been brought when he was first hurt but that was water under the bridge and pointless to belabor.

"Please be sure to keep me updated on his condition."

Suzanne, the head nurse was the best of the best and worth every penny she got from the various hero groups to have her exclusive services. "Of course, sir, we have your number. Should we also inform Batman or the Titans?"

Nodding and smiling his thanks, Superman left to catch an airliner that had just lost power over the Amazon.

* * *

"_Five days and no word, nothing, not a single statement or comment. This is inexcusable!"_

Senator Helmsley was on a roll. Cameras from every major (and quite a few minor) news agencies were in the Capitol's Press room getting their sound bites for the day. This whole thing with Robin's being shot live on camera, falling a couple of stories to a ledge before being swooped away in the arms of his mentor were pure gold. The good Senator, bless his heart, was flogging the story to within an inch of it's life (or Robin's death, if it cake to it) and since Batman and his fiends seemed unwilling to give out any info, would continue for a while. Ratings were up, the news magazines, tabloids, talk shows, legit papers and everyone up to an including your Aunt Betty were following the snow ball with bated breath. The e-mails had been pouring in since this started;

'Poor Robin, just a child and what he's been through!'

'Isn't there anyone who looks after these youngsters? Where on earth are their parents?'

'There should be a law!'

'Damn Liberals!'

'He can't die, he's a space alien like Superman, isn't he?'

"_I intend to get to the bottom of this and you can take that to the bank. Batman and his ilk have been running roughshod over our laws for years with their vigilante justice. If they want to fight crime, I say that's laudable but let them do within the confines of the checks and balances every police officer in every jurisdiction has to abide by. I call on my fellow members of this great institution to protect the young people who have, through their idealism and dedicated themselves to stopping the baser elements of our society. Let us vote today for a minimum age for these self-declared upholders of our justice. I propose that no one under the age of twenty-one don the spandex and that, when they do finally reach that age, be required to take and pass the same tests and fulfill the same requirements that any other law enforcement officer must take and pass."_

The bill went through the process in record time, or close to it. Proposed and voted on in five days, it passed the house with a eighty-seven percent approval and passed the senate vote with ninety-five for, three against and two absent.

The president, knowing that to reject this would be political suicide, signed it that afternoon.

With the stroke of a pen all sidekicks were officially unemployed and the Teen Titans were defunct.

* * *

In the Heroes Suite in Met Gen Robin's infection was fighting the antibiotics and, so far, seemed to be winning. The surgeon on staff refused to operate to remove the bone chips until the infection was under control and so they waited while Robin's condition worsened.

The thing about the youngster that bothered Suzanne though, were his nightmares. She realized, of course, that they were likely brought on by the fever but the poor thing was so upset about something, in tears, begging to be given another chance, swearing that he'd do better, that it wasn't his fault, that it wasn't fair—_he was Robin_ and no one could take that away from him.

The poor thing, he was so young no matter what he had on his resume and he'd been dumped here two days ago and not a single person had come by to see him or even call to ask how he was doing. Where were his parents? Where were his friends? Where was Superman and, most of all, where was Batman?

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

To no one's surprise the entirety of the Fourth Estate had a field day with Robin's shooting, fall and disappearance. It quickly became impossible for any of the sidekicks—now demoted to regular, run of the mil, everyday teenagers—without being questioned about their cohort's whereabouts and condition. Of course, a number of the kids were used to working in secret identities and so they were spared the intrusions and annoyance but the others—Wonder Girl, Aqualad for example, were driven back to their places of origin. Garth stayed underwater and Donna retreated to Paradise Island. Neither answered their phones.

"Batman, I'm asking you as an old friend to make some kind of a statement or have the boy do it." There was a momentary pause. "He _is_ capable of making a statement, isn't he?"

"I'll give him your message, Commissioner."

"Thank you, but between you and me, he is all right, isn't he?"

"Thank you for your concern, if you'll excuse me..."

There was a soft click on the line. "God_damn_ him." Commissioner Gordon hung up his own receiver, frustrated and no more satisfied with the non-answer than anyone would be. The boy, Robin for God's sake, could be dead or close to it and he'd be none the wiser. "He could have been taken anywhere for treatment, Europe, Japan, Atlantis, for all I know. _Damn _it."

And there was another problem;

'_Police departments across the country report an increase in virtually every area of crime since the younger members of the Hero Community have been removed from active service. In Gotham it's estimated that crimes, especially by minors, has risen a frightening twenty-two percent. In New York the estimates are closer to thirty percent and in Central City it's reported as close to fifteen percent._

_An interesting side-note is that the increase is being reported only in cities that had known young heroes who have been forced to cease and desist. Other major cities report no change in the statistics.'_

* * *

Suzanne was checking Robin's vitals again when she heard the soft rustle behind her.

"How is he?"

"Holding his own but the antibiotics don't seem to be able to control the infection so we're changing him from penicillin to erythromycin." She saw the questioning look. "It's a type especially good at fighting infection in soft tissues."

"He still has a fever?"

She nodded, not intimidated by Superman like so many people were but she'd known him too long for that. "They have to operate soon but without the infection under control, well, it would be riskier than it has to be."

"Has Batman been by?"

"Not even a call."

"Kal?"

Superman crossed closer to the bed, "How are you feeling?"

The boy made no effort to get up or move in any way. "Okay, I guess." He seemed to gather his strength. "What's going on? No one will tell me anything and I keep half hearing news reports about me; am I dying or something?"

"Suzanne, do you mind?" She shook her head, uninsulted, closing the door being her. "Your little go-around with Joker was broadcast live and it seems some people are concerned about how you're doing, that's all."

Robin knew better, he knew these things were handled. "Wasn't there an press release?"

"Bruce didn't seem to think it was necessary." Kal's face was unreadable.

"That was stupid—he knows the press run with anything like this unless you defuse it." Unless he didn't think Robin—the ex-Robin—was his concern anymore. Of course. That was it. Robin had been fired—tested and found wanted and Bruce had washed his hands of a problem.

Dick wasn't even too surprised, it was like Bruce to move decisively once a decision had been made. Robin was no more, Dick had left the Manor.

Yesterday's news.

Move on, face tomorrow and the hell with the past.

It was classic Bruce (if you ignored that whole 'My-parents-are-dead-and-I'm-going-to-turn-myself-into-a-giant-avenging-Bat thing'), no regrets, no second thinking a decision, no remorse.

No wonder he hadn't been by to visit or something, no card, no flowers, no calls. Of course.

But Alfred, he should have been by, shouldn't he? He was Alfred f'God'ssake. _Alfred._

But Alf was aligned with Bruce, Alfred had raised Bruce and would always side with him. Always. It was just the way of things. He knew this, he'd always known that if it ever came down to a choice, Bruce would win in a no-contest.

Superman watched the thoughts play across Dick's face, not knowing what had caused the look of sadness and resignation but feeling his anger growing at Bruce who he knew had to be responsible. Finally Dick closed his eyes. "Tired?"

"Ummm."

"Then rest, I'll be back later."

Three minutes Clark Kent walked onto the executive floor of Wayne Enterprises. "Excuse me, I was hoping that Mr. Wayne might possibly give me two minutes this afternoon."

The senior assistant (out of Bruce's three personal assistants) smiled, picked up her phone, "I'll see, Mr. Kent, if you would just take a seat?" Sure, he could have just flown past the flunkies too fast to be seen, but he wanted to see Bruce man to man, not Superman to Batman. "He said that he has five minutes right now, if you'd like to go in, sir."

It helped to be on TV, even as just Clark Kent, opened doors. Bruce was sitting behind his massive and apparently unused desk, the two of them alone. Clark spoke without preamble. "What did you do this time?"

"In reference to what?" Clark's look stopped him. "Fine, not that it's any of your business, but I did what I should have done years ago; I removed him from harm's way before someone got off a lucky shot that really did kill him."

"Meaning?"

"I retired Robin. Permanently."

"You...you took Robin away from Dick? Are you serious—no, of course you are. Are you out of your mind?"

"Isn't that what you asked me the day you found out that I'd taken him in and was training him to be my side-kick?"

"He's proved himself a hundred times since then, he's a role-model for thousands—millions—of kids, he's respected and admired by every police force and law-enforcement agency on the planet and _now_ you decide to protect him? That's ridiculous."

Bruce shook his head. "You don't understand what I'm saying. I admit that it was a mistake all those years ago, I should never have let him become Robin to begin with, I'm correcting that mistake before he gets killed."

"By throwing him out, taking away his identity?"

"I didn't throw him out."

"He left? Because you made it impossible for him to stay."

"I stopped Robin to save Dick, he knows that. I did it because I couldn't bear to lose him, he knows that, too."

"Does he? When was the last time you spoke with him; do you even know where he is?"

"Of course I do, he's at Titan's Tower."

Clark turned to leave, pausing for a moment."Your information is old." For possibly the first time since they'd met, Superman managed to surprise Batman.

Within seconds of Kal's leaving, Bruce was on the secure line to the Tower, annoyed that Speedy answered the call. "Could you tell me when Robin left and where he went?"

"The world's greatest detective doesn't know?"

"Answer the question." It was the Bat-voice but, seemed to have lost it's power.

"Find him yourself." Just before Bruce slammed down the receiver he heard Roy's final comment. "Joker shot him, but you're the one who's killing him."

* * *

_'There's still no word tonight about the whereabouts or condition of Robin, seriously injured a week ago. Concerned fellow vigilantes, law enforcement officials and fans are voicing their worry and increasingly demanding a response or statement, which, so far, has gone unanswered.'_

_'Senator Helmsley, during an appearance on Meet the Press this morning, suggested that without proof that Robin is safe or at least being cared for and treated for his injuries, an official investigation and possible lawsuit was being considered by several members of the Senate to ensure the safety of a minor. In addition, Batman may be called to testify before committee later this week to defend his allowing and encouraging a young child to engage in life-threatening activities.'_

_'I, along with my entire congregation have offered several prayer vigils for Robin's safety. In addition, my wife and I are partitioning the Gotham courts to be named Robin's guardians as it seems clear to us that whomever has that position is woefully lax in their duties.'_

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four**

The surgeons decided, reluctantly, that they simply couldn't wait any longer and would have to remove the bone fragments now. The boy's fever was holding at about one hundred and three—certainly not good but could be worse—and the toll was making itself apparent on his body, young and healthy though he was.

The procedures in a case like this were in place. Once a member of the Hero Community was admitted all permission was assumed to be granted for any and all necessary treatment no matter what their age was. Minor or not, the operation was a go.

"But with that fever his chances of a quick recovery are compromised."

"I know that but if those chips stay in we risk them breaking loose and then we'll have a serious situation on our hands. Let's get started with this thing."

"Has anyone called Batman, let him know?"

"The only one who's been to see the kid is Superman and he knows."

"I guess that will have to do."

* * *

_'With the lack of information forthcoming from the Hero Community regarding the political firestorm that's erupting and the forced withdrawal of the younger Crime-fighters rumors are filling the vacuum. It was reported—and denied—this morning that Robin is dead and has been secretly buried in a hidden location.' (cut to video sound bite of Superman) 'I saw him just this morning and assure you that he's in good hands and is expected to make a full recovery.' 'Excuse me, Superman, but do you have any proof that Robin is actually being treated for and getting better?' 'I just said so, I would think that would be enough.'_

_'We continue to pray for Robin and all the youngsters who were forced to place their lives on the line for so long. We also have filed several lawsuits asking that temporary custody of the various members of the Teen Titans be remanded to carefully selected families in our congregation so that they might be able to make a smooth adjustment to normal lives.'_

_'Senator Helmsley, I understand that several of our costumed Heroes have been subpoenaed to testify at Senate hearings next week. Would you care to comment?_

_'We feel that these folks may have some answers to the unaddressed questions that have been circling around for years now; who are these kids, why on earth do their parents allow them to be in harm's way, are we sure that they even want to be there or are they somehow being coerced? You have to understand that we're talking about youngsters who have, in some cases, been out on the streets fighting hardened criminals since they were ten or eleven years old. To be perfectly honest, the entire situation appalls me and should have been stopped before this.'_

_* * *_

It didn't take long for Alfred to make the connection that Wayne Manor were once again as quiet as before Dick arrived almost nine years ago. The laughter, the piles of dirty laundry and used towels carelessly thrown on the floor were missing and with them went the lightness the boy had brought with him. A week after Dick had left in anger and pain, Alfred went about his work by rote, dusting, polishing, cooking and cleaning as efficiently as ever but the will was gone.

"I simply can't help myself, Leslie. I lay this state of affairs squarely on his shoulders and have been unable to prevent the resentment which I find building in me. I fear it might for the best if I took a bit of a break and removed myself from the situation for now."

Dr. Thompkins kept her eyes on her cup of Earl Grey, stunned by Alfred's admission. In all the years she'd been close to the Wayne family, both in and out of costume, she'd never heard Alfred raise the slightest reprimand against Bruce. Even with everything that happened in the old place, she'd never quite believed that Alfred really fully agreed with all the obsession and occasional insanity; he went along to oversee his charge, to make sure Bruce was looked after—fulfilling his promise to Tom and Martha Wayne. "I understand what you're feeling but you must realize that if you leave now it could be devastating fro Bruce. He's lost Dick and now to lose you as well..."

"He didn't lose Dick, he practically chucked him out by his collar—and when the lad was injured, as well; injured and in pain. He went too far, too far by half."

"Yes, he did but Bruce needs you, he always has and I suspect that he's suffering now as well. I'm sure he regrets what's happened."

Alfred shook his head. "'Would that were the case. I fear he's complimenting himself on the fact that he's taken the boy out of harm's way after making the initial mistake of allowing Dick to join in their nocturnal activities years ago. He even seems proud of the fact the he's effectively the instrument for the disbandment of the Titans."

"But I don't understand, he was always so proud of Robin." How many times had Bruce privately gone on and on about how the boy had broken some case on his own—'and he's only twelve years old!'

"This last unfortunate incident seems to have finally brought home the simple fact that what they do is dangerous; he fears losing Dick."

"And so he may well have lost him."

Alfred stirred his tea, toying with his slice of lemon. "I'm afraid so."

* * *

At the Superhero's Suite at Met Gen, Robin was wheeled out of surgery, the bone chips removed but not without incident. There had been a few moments of quiet urgency when his blood pressure nosedived but which was brought under control through quick work and medical ability. The operation took almost two hours, a long time considering the procedure, but not unexpected when dealing with a world class athlete who couldn't function professionally if his movements were compromised (even if he'd been banned by law from practicing his profession for several years).

He came out of the anesthesia slowly, drifting in and out of consciousness several times before finally opening his eyes to find Superman quietly sitting over by the window, tapping on a laptop. He watched for a while before Clark noticed.

"You're awake, how are you feeling?"

"Tired, high, sore."

"All normal. The operation went well, you're going to be fine. You may need some PT but they said that you should make a full recovery."

"...Good." He closed his eyes again, he always felt like crap coming out of the anesthesia and his shoulder was seriously hurting. "Has Bruce been by, or Alfred?"

"I was going over to let them know how you're doing as soon as you woke up."

Of course. "Okay." N o surprise.

* * *

In the now out of business Titan's Tower a couple of the former members were packing up a few of their personal belongings.

"I can't believe this, I really frigging can't."

"I was talking to Uncle Barry last night and he says he's surprised that it didn't happen years ago. He thinks that this was almost inevitable."

"Good for him, Ollie thinks it's bullshit."

"Ollie thinks everything is...what you said."

Roy put his favorite jeans in his duffel. "Y'know, if that helicopter wasn't there when Robbie got hurt, none of this would have happened."

"Are you blaming this on the news media or on Dick for getting shot?"

"I'm just saying, that's all."

Wally slung the tote bag over his shoulder. "Have you gone to see him yet? He's pretty down; did you know he left the Manor? He and Bruce had some huge fight and it ended up with his walking out."

Duffel zipped, Roy shrugged. "It would be day without sunshine if those two weren't butting heads about something, it'll pass."

"I dunno, it seems pretty serious this time; Dick says he's not going back and he's not going to be Robin anymore, either."

"Yeah, right...wait, are you shitting me?" The Titans, the _former _Titans loved teasing Roy; this was probably just...

"I wish I was but Dick said Batman canned Robin because he's afraid that he'll get killed and it will be on his head and he doesn't want the guilt trip."

"Serious? Man, talk about too little, too late." Roy shook his head as he and Wally headed for the door. "Asshole."

* * *

'_...And so papers were filed this morning in Gotham, Central City, Keystone City, New York and Poseidonis requesting temporary custody of Robin, Speedy, Kid Flash, Wonder Girl and Aqualad be remanded to Child Protective Services in their respective home cities. While in most cases the legal names of these young people are unknown, as they are all well known public personalities the argument is being made that they can be placed under protection in their alternate identities._

_While the court states it recognizes that several, if not all of the Teen Titans are over the usual age of majority, the law recently passed clearly states that no one may engage in Vigilante Activities before the age of twenty-one. As the Teen Titans are admittedly below that age, the court agreed to hear this unusual complaint._

_A ruling is expected within twenty-four hours.'_

When the judge's ruling in favor of placing the Titans under protection came down the next day the reaction was immediate.

The government of Atlantis send a statement explaining in strong language that due to the extreme physical strain of living at great depths, their population tended to have a life span of thirty-five to forty years. Because of this, their young people were considered of age at thirteen and so Prince Garth would not, under any circumstances, be subjected to this interference.

Flash gave a press conference and read the following prepared statement; "Kid Flash continues to live happily with his parents. He is loved, cared for in every possible way, attends school five days a week, receives good grades and will not leave his family or the only home he's ever lived in under any circumstances."

Queen Hippolyta sent word through her Representative that Wonder Girl is under her direct supervision and care. She would not be removed for any reason and resented the intrusion into her government's decisions.

Green Arrow said Speedy would stay with him and the critics could go screw.

There was no comment from Batman.

The religious community made arrangements for the Titans when they won the lawsuit they were sure they couldn't lose, the President has second thoughts about signing that bill, despite knowing it would have been political suicide not to. Alfred continued to agonize over 'his boy' and Batman kept to himself the growing realization that he may have been wrong.

At Met Gen Robin was kept unaware of the legal, media and public storm started when he was shot.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Five**

With Titan's Tower locked the former members had no choice but to meet elsewhere, today it was Oliver Queen's living room.

Donna sipped her iced tea. "Any word on Dick?"

"I spoke to Clark this morning and he said that the operation went well to get the bone fragments out of his shoulder and they're trying some new kind of antibiotic to try to kill the infection other than that, he's doing fine." Wally helped himself to another slice of pizza.

"What about Bruce, has he said anything?"

"The invisible man? Fat chance."

Roy reached for the fried rice, "I got an e-mail today from M5 over in London, they said we're welcome to work over there if we want to change our base of operations and they're sure that we'd be welcomed in just about any country in Europe. If we want to, that it. Interpol says the same thing and we wouldn't be limited to one country that way. If we want to, that it."

Wally scowled at the news. "Why would we want to do that?"

"Because the alternative is to sit on our thumbs and be dragged through the courts to fight being placed in some random foster homes for Christ knows how long." Roy looked up from his Chinese food. "I'm just saying."

This was greeted with silence.

"Any word from Garth?" Donna always worried about the boys.

Roy made a face. "His Imperial Highness? Nah, nothing. You know how he is, he won't be back until this is all worked out, he hates all the legal garbage and politics."

"That doesn't sound like it bodes well for a member of a royal family."

"Y'think?" Lo Mein noodles were sucked into Roy's mouth with nothing close to anything Alfred would ever approve as a role model for Master Richard. "Y'know the thing that really squeezes my balls?"

Donna's face didn't register the slightest. "A colorful phrase, and what, pray tell, would that be?"

"The fact that all these people—politician, religious leaders, random people on the streets—can file any kind of suits they want, people who've never met us, people we've never set eyes on seem to think that they have some kind of say over what we do and how we live our lives. I mean—who died and appointed them God?"

Wally perked up a little, sitting up straighter. "That's what bothers me, too. It would be different if we'd done something wrong, if we'd broken some laws or let criminals go or something but we haven't. We're the good guys, aren't we?"

"Maybe, but we're still minors and that means that we're too young to make our own legal decisions. It's bull."

"Barry says that we could petition the court to become emancipated then we'd be legal adults and none of this would matter."

"Uh-huh, and you'd explain this to you friends and family how? You're Mr. Cornfed, the All-American boy, remember? Correct me if I'm wrong but aren't your parents still in the dark about your after school activities, Wally?"

"Well yeah, but I could tell them."

Roy snorted as only he was capable. "Right; Mom, Dad? I've been meaning to tell you that I'm really Kid Flash and I have a superpower and I'm one of the founding members of the Teen Titans and Uncle Barry is the Flash—you don't mind and you're okay with this, right?"

"All right...Maybe not."

"Knock it off, both of you. We're supposed to present ourselves to the court tomorrow so that we can be turned over to some foster families. Any thoughts on what we're going to do?"

The silence as loud as Speedy and Kid Flash, in jeans and tees looked at the carpet.

"God, boys. Okay, we don't turn ourselves in. Period. We don't go, we don't show up. Roy, you stay here with Ollie, Wally stays with his parents and I'll stay with Diana. We go undercover, stay out of costume until this is resolved. You both okay with this?"

They other two nodded. For now the Titans were off the radar and it sucked.

* * *

Donna did as she said she would and went to visit her big sister, Diana Prince in New York.

"So where is Dick, Di, you must know something."

Diana handed her a few hangers for her clothes. "You don't know?"

"If I knew I wouldn't ask. He was hurt pretty badly, walked out of the Manor because Bruce was being horrible again. We all know that when he was staying at the Tower a couple of weeks ago, but it wasn't any worse than he'd had before; well not much worse, anyway."

"You know how Dick is, trying to be all stoic so Bruce will think he's superhuman and all of that testosterone garbage men always try to get away with."

Donna stared at Diana. "You mean it's worse than he let on?"

Diana nodded. "He's in Met Gen in the special suite they've set aside for the hero community. Clark told me he had surgery a few days ago to correct some problems, but they're having trouble controlling an infection."

Donna's eyes went wide. "He's been in the hospital all this time, since he left the Tower? Ohmigod, that's like two weeks."

"I understand that he's largely healed now, starting on physical therapy but flatly refuses to go back 'home' and the Tower is locked. Clark said he was talking about trying to find out where that old circus he grew up in was playing now and going to stay with them for a while." Diana started helping, picking up a dress and slipping it onto a hanger. "And then there's still the whole tangle with congress starting that investigation and the lawsuit from the religious group insisting on making sure you young heroes are 'protected'."

"And probably brainwashed as well. What a mess." Donna seemed close to tears, rare for her. "'Sorry, but this is personal, y'know? We were fine and I think we were even doing some good and now all these people who have nothing to do with us have butted in and you know as well as I do that they don't really care about us, it's all for their own agendas."

Diana nodded. "Of course it is and anyone with a brain knows it, too. The problem is that if you look at it objectively it makes some sense. The fact is that you and the others _are _minors, or close to it and you are often in life threatening situations. No one wants to face the possibility of having to deal with a seventeen year old ending up dead, especially if it's broadcast on national TV."

"...I know all that, but it's what we _do._"

"I still can't believe that jackass _fired_ Robin. I mean, _really._"

Donna nodded her agreement.

* * *

"Robin, you're just not trying, c'mon, put some effort into it. No pain, no gain."

Dick was doing flexibility exercises for his injured shoulder but his heart wasn't in it and that was unusual for him—he was a fighter, always had been, all his life. He'd fought to learn the quad, fought to get his parents to listen to him the night he'd overheard criminals planning their murder, fought when he'd been mistakenly remanded to Juvie, fought as Robin for years bit this...

But this was different, he wasn't Robin anymore, Robin was defunct—over, finished. As far as everyone knew, Robin was dead.

Screw it, he was still a fighter, even if he didn't have any reason to focus his skills right now. Grabbing the weighted bar again he pushed this time, detirmined to make progress, get out of here and –and do...something.

Okay, he was seventeen, he was a long way from dead and he had skills, dammit. He had training and he knew how to use it.

The Titans were illegal? Bruce killed off Robin? They were threatened with forced temporary homes?

The hell with this.

Time to suck it up and push back.

While he worked at the PT exercises he started making plans, working through the pain.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Part Six**

"Yeah hi, it's me. Meet me in Aparo Park tomorrow at ten AM. Tell the others." That was it, no need to waste time with details until they were in the park.

On the other end of the call the recipient pushed number four on his saved numbers phone list, Roy smiled, it was about time. "Wally? Call the others, we're meeting Robbie at Aparo at ten tomorrow morning, It sounds like he has an idea."

"You got it. Heck, it's about time.."

* * *

"So that's the deal, you all good with it?"

They former Teen Titans, all in civilian clothes, were sitting on an old and tired picnic bench, close to the Gotham River. No one looking too closely at what might be floating by.

"You think it will work?"

"'No idea but it's worth a shot and I suspect it's the only one we have. I've already talked to the JLA and they're in." He took a beat. "Okay, except for Bruce but that's not a surprise. We don't need him for this, it'll be okay."

"'You sure?"

"Yes." Period. End of discussion.

No one said anything about Dick's arm still being in a sling or the fact that his own mentor was the only one opting out without a word.

* * *

_'I insist that some kind of statement be given, that the young man be brought out and prove that he is—as is being insisted—healing and will be all right after the terrible shooting we've all seen footage of. I, for one, intend to speak to Senator Helmsley and members of Congress to see what can be done to insure that these youngsters are taken care of and have offered my own home as a sanctuary for Robin to recover in, should he be as well as we're being led to believe.'_

_* * *_

"Sir, may I intrude for a moment and inquire if you've heard anything from Master Richard? I hesitate to say anything but I'm concerned about his injury and..."

"Nothing directly, no but Clark said that his surgery went well and he believes that the infection is draining. And he's out of the hospital."

"Well that certainly implies good news, I would think."

Bruce turned the page of his newspaper. "I suppose." Alfred fixed Bruce with the original Batglare, the look Batman had appropriated as his own but it was a pale copy compared to the original and forced even the Batman to respond. "What?"

"If that young man, if that _boy_ has closed the door to this house, the life he had here and to us I want you to know that I will hold you personally responsible."

Seriously not in the mood for this right now. "You know that I pulled Robin to protect him, Alfred—you _know_ that and I don't want to hear any more about it."

"You will hear what I deem necessary and you will listen to me when it happens without a stream of complaints on your part—I fear that in the last few years you've occasionally forgotten yourself and I'll not have it any longer."

"Alfred..."

"And I'll thank you to change the tone of your voice when you speak to me. Master Richard is the light in this old house and I'll not allow it to be extinguished because of your paranoia, do you understand me, young man?"

"He's the one who walked out." C'mon, Alf...cut me some slack here.

"With you pushing him beyond all reason. You will talk to him and convince him to return to his rightful place and if you do not, I will myself—and, either way, _you_ will welcome him with opened arms and gratitude and I'll brook no argument."

Bruce knew when an argument was lost.

But that didn't mean he'd go along with the tantrums flying around the Manor lately.

* * *

"A surprise today at the Capitol Building. During the scheduled hearings regarding the forced disbanding of the Teen Titans, the former members arrived to give their testimony regarding the circumstances and reasons for both their forming and now their being declared too young to assume such responsibilities. It was startling afternoon. This is Clark Kent reporting, please stay tuned for details."

The proceedings were in progress when Senator DiGrassi was handed a note asking that the former members of the Teen Titans be allowed to speak. With the news cameras trained on him, he willingly agreed so long as they wold remain for questions after their former leader had his say.

The members of the Teen Titans walked into the conference room number twelve wearing civilian clothes, suits and sports jackets for the young men, Wonder Girl in a conservative dress. Robin's left arm was in a sling and the former Titans who maintained secret identities wore their masks.

They looked just like what they were, people about to testify in front of Congress and the national media. Robin too his seat front and center, his friends behind him. There was a loud murmur from both the congresspeople and the audience.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you for allowing us to speak. There have been countless rumors and mistruths spread about us the last few weeks and we appreciate this chance to set the record straight.

"To begin, despite reports, I'm not dead. (This was followed by a laugh from the room.) Obviously I was shot by Joker and further injured when I fell, but I'm recovering and have been told by doctors to expect to be back to normal and to make a full recovery within a couple of months. For what it's worth, the bullet went through my shoulder without any major injury and my fall as broken by a ledge. It looked a lot worse than it was. I was given immediate medical help and I've started on Physical Therapy to regain full use of my arm and have been told by my doctors to expect no lasting affects."

He took a paper out of a folder, changing the subject away from himself.

"After my injury was broadcast we're all aware of both the public and legal reaction; the outcry insisting that the so called junior members of the vigilante groups cease and desist and we've have been prohibited from our chosen. There are also efforts to remove us from our various homes and place us in some kind of foster care 'for our own good'.

"I speak for all of us (his glanced back to the other former Titans behind him) when I say that we'll fight this last part—being removed from our homes and families—and won't accept that happening. The fact is that we all have people who love and support us, just as I'm sure your own kids do (here Robin looked straight at the Congresspeople sitting in front of him).

"It's also been written and debated what kind of homes we come from where we'd be allowed to pursue a path as admittedly dangerous as what we do can be. Well, most of us come from backgrounds in which either we were victims of crimes ourselves or saw and lived through significant injustice of one kind or another and this is our reaction to that. We do what we can to make wrongs right; it's how we've chosen to rectify wrongs where we see them.

"I think it's been clear for years now that we don't act on our own. All of us (another glance behind him) have mentors in the Justice League who help us, guide us, answer our questions and are there for us. I have Batman, Kid Flash has Flash, Speedy has Green Arrow and so on. In addition to that we all know that we can go to any member at any time. I know, speaking just for myself, Superman has become a friend I know will be there for me and he knows how much that means to me.

"And being able to say Superman is a friend I can count on is a pretty major deal, right?" More laughter in the room.

"Aside from having the JLA to help us, every single one of us has had to pass detective tests in our own jurisdictions, as well as field tests for the FBI and, in some cases, Interpol. Despite what's been written, we aren't a bunch of out of control kids—we've been trained by the best and passed every test that's been thrown at us...we're not just a bunch of rogues.

"Beyond all of that, I think that our record speaks for itself; as the Titans we've met and bested Trigon, Brother Blood, the Fearsome Five, Deathstroke, Blackfire, Wildebeest, the Brotherhood of Evil, the Society of Sin, Deathwing and on and on. The reason we have prices on our heads is because we're good at what we do and to stop us because of an occasional injury or arbitrary age guidelines is...wrong. We've spoken among ourselves and we'll simply pick up where we've been forced to leave off as soon as we turn twenty-one or accept the offers we've had to continue our work based in foreign countries.

"We understand the risks in what we do—we've all been hurt and none of us has a death wish, but we've also all decided that this is our life's work and we intend to continue. We'd much prefer to do so without fighting the law, but we will continue."

Applause broke out, silenced quickly by the Committee Head pounding his gavel. "Silence, silence or I'll have this room cleared." It took a minute, but finally the room was quiet. "Robin, do you mind if I asked you a few questions, keeping in mind that you're under oath?"

"No, I don't mind sir."

"Thank you and I'd like to start out by saying that you and your friends have a remarkable record and have made extraordinary contributions to our nation and it's security, for which we're in your debt, however, be that as it may...Would you please tell us how old you were when you began your identity of Robin and why?"

"I was was a few months past my ninth birthday and I did so to attempt to capture the people responsible for my parent's deaths."

The good Congressman too a beat. "..And did you succeed?"

"Yes, I did."

"How old were you when you formed the Teen Titans?"

"I was fourteen, we all were, except Garth—Aqualad, he was a year younger. And all our parents or guardians or mentors knew and supported us."

"Even knowing that you could, and were injured?"

"They didn't like to see us hurt so we trained a lot and tried to be ready for any situation—usually we were and were fine."

"And if you're hurt?"

"The superhero community has medical facilities at it's disposal, we use them. They're very good and they always helped us."

"And if they were unable to help you, if one of your members were killed, what then?"

Robin paused, there was no easy answer to that. "It's happened and may happen again, we all know that. It's difficult, it's always hard to lose a friend, and we _are _all friends...but we all go into to this knowing that it could happen. We just try to be prepared and as well trained as possible so it doesn't happen."

"May I ask how many times you'd estimate that you've personally been injured while working as Robin?"

Oh crap. "I'm really not sure, a few."

"How many times would you estimate that you've been hospitalized from injuries you've received while acting as Robin?"

"I'm not sure, a few." Not counting the times Alfred treated him or Dr. Leslie took care of things. "Maybe three or four, I guess."

"And your current age?"

"I'm eighteen."

"I see." The man let it go to look over a list he had of prepared questions, letting Robin's answer to hang in the air like the proverbial lead balloon, then, "Do you regularly attend school?"

"Yes."

"'Get good grades?"

"Yes."

"'Plan on going to college?"

"I'm not sure. I've thought about it but I'm not sure it's the right thing for me—personally, I mean."

"What about the other Titans? Do any of them have plans for higher education?"

"You'd have to ask them, sir. I don't know."

"I'd like to ask you what your reaction is to the massive amounts of publicity given to your latest public injury, the shooting and that terrible fall. That film has received tremendous air play, do you feel; responsible for the thousands, if not millions of young children who see you as a hero and role model having to watch what could well have been your death?"

Cripes. "It's not like I planned it...sir. And I guess that my sitting here is proof that I'm okay." Bad answer, bad answer.

Another committee member held up a series of color photographs depicting a vast display of flowers, candles , get well cards and stuffed animals left on the sidewalk at the scene of the shooting. "As a role model, surely you must realize the effect your well-being has on impressionable youngsters. Did you know that three youngsters tried to kill themselves when it was reported you'd likely been killed?"

Holy crap. "Are you serious? No, no, I didn't know that. No one told me. Are they all right?"

"Luckily, yes but that doesn't change the fact that you aren't operating in a vacuum, what happens to you, good or bad, has repercussions."

"Yes, but, I mean, that's terrible but I had nothing to do with it. Those kids, I had nothing to do with it and if they were maybe a little unstable or upset about something else, I really don't think that makes me responsible."

There was an awkward silence in which the Committee Head finally said, "We'll break for lunch, please be back in one hour. When we come back I'd like to call the Reverend Dimsdale to testify."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Part Seven**

**Conclusion**

"Before we call Reverend Dimsdale, I'd like to recall Robin to answer a few more questions, please."

Robin, sitting in the front row along with the other Titans, nodded and took his place again.

"Thank you. Before we broke for lunch we were discussing whether or not you feel responsible for other youngsters, knowing that whether you like it or not, you're in the position of a role model."

"No, I don't feel responsible. I recognize that there are impressionable people out there and they may take things I or my friends do too seriously, but I don't take either credit or blame if someone I've never met or never had any contact with gets out of hand. I believe we're all responsible for our own actions and so, no."

The Congressman on the far right spoke. "There have been rumors regarding you and Batman for years now, rumors of impropriety, do any of these allegations have any substance?"

"You mean has he ever abused me in any way? No."

"No physical, no..."

"No physical abuse, no mental abuse and no sexual abuse. Our relationship is and has always been a working one between mentor and student or teacher and apprentice. And we're friends. That's all." Okay, they weren't actually speaking and Robin had just been fired and they hadn't said anything about emotional abuse but that wasn't one of the questions. That last part was probably true but, whatever.

"May I remind you that you're under oath?"

Robin managed to keep his temper in control but this was an old story. "You don't need to remind me, sir. This gossip has been around for years and it's garbage. It was garbage when I was nine and it's garbage now. Nothing inappropriate has ever happened between myself and Batman and, so far as I know nothing of that sort has ever happened between any of the Titans and any of their mentors. This is a dead end, may we move past it?"

"Thank you Robin, I would like to reserve the right to recall you if necessary. Reverend Dimsdale, please come forward and be sworn." He did so, sitting in the chair Robin just vacated. "Reverend, would you please explain to us why you felt it necessary to file a motion to have the Titans be placed under your personal care and the care of your church?"

"For their own safety, of course. I saw that horrifying tape on the news, the one where Robin here was shot and I was appalled that a young man like that could be placed in that sort of potentially mortal situation and no one intervened."

"Have you considered the comment from Robin that he and the other Titans maintain that they've made the decision to become vigilantes of their own free will and understand the dangers?"

"I heard what he said and I believe that these youngsters may think they understand the possible ramifications of what they do, however, I stress their extreme youth. I don't believe they are capable of fully comprehending the finality of what could happen."

"I see. And your position is that they'd be better protected and be able to establish a better perspective about their decisions if they were housed in an insular community within your religious community, Reverend Dimsdale?"

"Well, yes, I do."

"And should they decline to join you or accept your suggestions? Robin has already stated the Titans all have supportive family situations and sufficient emotion back up. I'm curious how you'd deal with the possibility that they may, individually or as a group have significant different religious beliefs than yourself."

"...Well, naturally we'd respect their beliefs, whatever they may be."

"I'm sure you would. May I ask how you plan to protect them from the massive media intrusion and speculation they've been subjected to these last few weeks?"

"We find that our community is secluded enough that it's never been a problem."

"And what would you suggest these accomplished young people do in a community of less than one thousand people in the New Mexico desert? I don't mean in any way to disparage your home but I think we can agree that the Titans are a remarkably sophisticated and worldly group and may, forgive me, feel somewhat isolated with you and your followers."

The good Reverend heard the sarcasm and fought a losing battle with his temper. "They would learn that a full life doesn't have to include violence and being part of a constant stream of sordid rumor and innuendo about them. 'Seeing their faces displayed in every tabloid and splashed across the Internet day in and day out." His voice rose, his face took on a little too much color. "They would learn that with simplicity comes peace and true inner contentment, that dedicating yourself to a higher cause is the essence of why we're all here, sir—something I suspect that a goodly number of the members of this body would benefit from."

Senator DiGrassi took a moment and looked at Robin, sitting with his friends in the first row of spectators. "Robin, keeping in mind that you're still under oath, do you, in all honesty and in your heart of hearts believe that you and your friends here would benefit from being moved to Reverend Dimsdale's community?"

Robin hesitated, not wanting to put his foot in his mouth and bring the wrath of the fundamentalists come down on his head. "In all honesty, sir? No, I don't. Without going into my own religious beliefs, I will ay I received a solid grounding from my own parents and am happy with that." He looked down the row of seats at his team mates. "Guys?" They nodded. "We're grateful for the Reverend's concern about us but we all feel the same way."

"But you're young—you don't understand the danger you're in. I'm not just talking about your corporal bodies, I'm talking about your immortal souls."

Robin remained passive, quietly saying, "But no one asked you to, sir. We want to make our own choices; and I think we're capable."

* * *

"Superman, would you please explain your relationship with Robin and tell us your feelings about young people like the Titans engaging with dangerous criminals?"

"I've known Robin, both in his secret and civilian identities since he was about nine years old and I've been continuously impressed by his intelligence, professionalism, dedication, abilities and maturity. Even as young as he was, he was completely focused; no one forced him to do any of this—I'd like to emphasize that. I also like him very much. I suppose I think of him as a younger brother or perhaps a nephew. Beyond that, he amazes me with how I've seen him handle the stresses of both his public persona as well as his regular day to day life. He's a remarkable young man I'm proud to know."

Sitting in the from row of spectators, Robin blushed slightly but smiled at Superman in genuine pleasure.

"And you have no problem working with youngsters who are, or were, by your own admission in grade school when they began fighting against major criminals?"

"I have any number of reservations regarding anyone doing what we—the hero community—do. However, accepting that we do accomplish good, that we do indeed help then I have no problem with young people as my co-workers, whatever their age may be." There was a buzz of conversation and surprise in the hearing room. "But having said that, I also stress that the young people who comprise the Titans are exceptional and have abilities far beyond the average. I support them and their work without reservation."

"And the entire 'hero community', as you referred to it, agrees with your opinion?" The senator seemed dubious.

"I haven't polled everyone, but I haven't heard any serious complaints, no."

"And you accept their being injured and possibly killed while still teenagers?" Senator DiGrassi looked skeptical.

"Every one of the Titans are of age to enlist in the military and risk injury there. I don't think anyone, aside from their adversaries, would like to see any young person harmed but, as I've said, we all accept the dangers of our work, including the Titans. And one point I haven't brought up yet is that the reason we're part of the community is that we're all—to be frank—good at what we do. We know our jobs and how to avoid getting hurt, at least most of the time."

The committee members conferred among themselves, clearly agreeing there was no point in trying to shake Superman.

"We thank you for your time and you're excused, Superman."

DiGrassi said something to one of his aides, nodded and turned to the crowded room, photographers sitting on the floor between the witness table and the committee members and standing room only in the gallery. "I believe we've heard all that we need to and..."

"Excuse me, would the Committee mind if I made a statement? It _was_ my partner's injury which started all of this."

The room buzzed as Batman walked to the witness table, waiting to be allowed to sit and have his say. Cameraman scrambled to get a good angle and clear shot. With really no choice DiGrassi nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you, Senator." It was his usual voice, polite, cold and riveting.

Dick noticed that Bruce didn't look at him, acknowledge him or in any way indicate he was in the room, sitting less than five feet away. He wasn't even all that surprised.

Batman was, as always, matter of fact and straight to the point. "First of all, I understand the concern and uproar which Robin's recent injury caused. I was horrified myself and want this committee to know that I've taken steps which I'm confident will prevent anything of that nature happening again."

Behind him, Robin looked uncomfortable and Wonder Girl subtly put her hand on his knee in support.

"I understand the controversy about young people engaging in potentially fatal police work, especially when dealing with the maniacs and madmen—and women we regularly encounter. My decision to train Robin and allow him to accompany me wasn't one I took lightly, nor do I take it lightly now. In all truth, I've agonized whenever he was injured and, as he could tell you, was not supportive when he and his friends decided to go off on their own as the Teen Titans."

The Titans sat stone-faced behind him. Not supportive? Understate much, Bruce?

"But, as Superman has just told you, Robin, as well as the other Titans, are exceptional in intelligence, ability, raining and their dedication to crime fighting. They aren't—none of them are average by any definition of the word and I can't imagine any other people their ages who could accomplish what they have. I always want to make clear that they've never really been entirely on their own because it's been made clear time and time again that not only are their individual mentors always available to help them but the entire Justice League is at their disposal."

"This is all enlightening, Batman but we're still concerned about the idea of these young people and any subsequent recruits having to face possible mortal danger when they're too young, too immature to make reasonable and informed decisions regarding their own safety."

"No doubt." Batman pulled out some papers from a file folder he'd brought in with him. "I've uncovered some recent e-mail exchanges between you and Reverend Dimsdale, would you mind if I read them into the record?"

"Personal e-mails? May I ask how you came upon them?"

"They concern my side-kick, the young man at the center of this hearing. You don't have any objections, do you?"

Dick glanced at his friends; Bruce was up to something. Let the fireworks begin.

"The first one, from Reverend Dimsdale to your personal e-mail account says, " He reads "'_Have you seen the news? This could be something we can work with._' It's dated approximately five minutes after Robin was shot by the Joker and fell off the roof onto that ledge."

"I resent..." DiGrassi sputtered, immediately knowing where this was going.

Batman ignored him, his voice controlled as always. "The reply, from your personal account to the Reverend's says '_Tremendous potential. Make a statement, I'll introduce something on the floor tomorrow._'"

"I protest this sort of ambush and..."

"This was followed the next morning, as I'm sure we all recall, by the Reverend giving a press conference, insisting that the Titans be disbanded and Robin be remanded to their care. This was later amended to include all the Titans. At ten o'clock that same day, you introduced a rather hastily written bill prohibiting anyone under the age of twenty-one from any vigilante activity. Another e-mail from you to Mr. Dimsdale, dated later that evening, after the evening newscasts, says _'This will pass in a walk. Keep up the pressure._' Could you explain to me what pressure you wished the Reverend to continue?"

"_I _ask the questions, sir, not you."

"Umm. The next e-mail is from Dimsdale to you again, dated two days later. '_I claim Robin, he's the highest profile and will generate the most PR. Good looking kid, injured—perfect. The girl, too many questions—boobs too big to look wholesome enough. I can set him up in the spare room, make him a member of the family—all American, wave the flag. I'll be rescuer and you're Mr. Smith in Washington, saving our youngsters from a life of danger.'_

"This is outrageous...!"

"Another e-mail from you to Dimsdale reads, and this is dated a week ago, '_The book deal is in place, half a mil up front, 50/50 split between you and me, guaranteed, two hundred thou first printing and if we can get Robin to write a chapter or whatever and have pictures more (they want shirtless). Probably much more. Polls show us in like sin and reelection is in the bag. And they thought the Titans were a good team—bullshit to that!'_

The noise in the room, everyone talking at once, reporters talking into their phones, cameramen shoving, the gallery in an uproar. Batman sat calmly, staring down the committee chairman, Robin and the rest of the Titans quietly got up, escorted by guards, and left the room.

In a small side room, door closed, Dick softly said, "So, that's it."

"Just like that? The Bat shows up, talks for five minutes and the whole mess goes away, poof?" Wally shook his head, "What about that law they passed, the age thing?"

"It'll be overturned, I'll put money on it. We'll be back in business in a week." Dick was right, in fact it was three days.

Roy slapped Dick on the back. "So we should be happy, right? Celebrate, anyone? I'll even let you pick the restaurant, Robin, name your poison!"

Smile in place, Dick kissed Donna on the cheek, laughing at the others elation as they left the room to a firestorm of flashbulbs and whirling camera drives, shouted questions from the assembled press drowning one another out as they left the building, surrounded by a dozen Capitol guards to clear the way. The return of the Titans and Batman's part in uncovering the scandal (which brought down both the Senator and the Reverend) led all the newscasts for days. Clark Kent's coverage was particularly insightful and earned him both an Emmy and a Pulitzer when awards season came around.

* * *

Later that night, after the big dinner, after the flight back to New York, after the Titans were allowed back into the Tower (all caught on camera, of course), after the talk and conversation and recaps and everyone settled in for the night Dick was laying on the bed in his quarters, not reading the book in his hands, thinking, when his private phone rang.

"Hello? Alfred?"

"Master Richard, I can't express how pleased I am and how proud I was watching you on the television today. You were quite wonderful and it would seem that all's well that end's well. These bystanders and strangers who know nothing about these things and who insisted on imposing themselves into your lives have been thoroughly put in their places."

"I figured they had some kind of agenda, now we know what it was." He shifted onto his back from his side, getting more comfortable. "Yeah, Bruce really nailed those jokers."

"He did indeed, but then he usually does, does he not? May I inquire when I should expect you back home? I'm ashamed to admit that your room is in need of a good airing and I was planning on restocking the larder tomorrow so must adjust my list accordingly."

"Um, that's the thing. I was thinking that I'll stay here at the Tower for a while, if that's okay."

The hesitation was immediate and pained. "...Of course, but I was hoping that...I thought that after this afternoon you and Master Bruce had put all the unpleasantness behind you. Surely you saw how upset he was with the recent events, it's past time to let bygones be bygones."

"I think, it may take, you know. It may take a little time, Alf but I want you to know that it's not anything you did—you know that, right? It's just that Bruce, um, you know how he is and I think, maybe in a few weeks or something. 'T'give it some time to settle and stuff." God this was hard, he could see Alfred's face, hear the disappointment and knew he was hurting him. Dammit.

"If you think that's for the best, well then..."

"I'll be back, you know that. Soon. You'll see. It'll be fine. We'll be fine. 'Promise." He yawned, it had been along day, to say the least.

Alfred, regrouped and his upper lip properly stiff, accepted this as well as he could. "Of course you will now off to bed with you, I can hear how tired you are and that's how one gets run down and sick—I'll not have any of that and I shall bring you some clean clothes first thing in the morning along with you school books and laptop. You can give me a list for anything else when I see you. Right. Off to sleep with you."

"Thanks, Alfred, you're the best, you always are. 'Night, see you tomorrow. Oh, hey, I want to talk to you about something, don't let me forget, okay?" Alfred could tailor anything and he had an idea...

Hanging up the receiver and thinking what Richard might need at the Tower, Alfred turned as he heard the Master's key in the front door and went to greet him. Before he could say anything Bruce cut him off.

"Please have Tom change all the locks in the main house and reset the entry codes to the gates."

"Might I ask why this is necessary?" After the surprise appearance in Washington a few hours ago, Alfred had reason to think the estrangement was smoothed over but now he knew the answer and his heart sank, seeing the long empty months and possibly years before them without Dick in their daily lives. "But surely this isn't what you really want, I beg of you to reconsider..."

Bruce crossed the entrance hall, headed down to the cave alone. "He's made his choice."

11/8/09

37


End file.
